Drabble Collection
by Triskell
Summary: Collection of drabbles pairings: Tatari, Tsusoka. Rated R to be on the safe side sexual references. Also includes a few other fandoms now RENT, LotR
1. Collection I

Title: YnM Drabble Collection

Author: Triskell

Rating: R (Tatari, Tsusoka)

Disclaimer: Yami no Matsuei and all associated characters belong to Matsushita Yoko; the manga I own to Carlsen Comics. No copyright infringement is intended and no bishonen were harmed in the writing ;D.

Spoilers/Warnings: some slight spoilers for manga/anime; slash, slight sexual content

Author's Notes: A drabble is a ficlet of exactly 100 words (in this case including the title) – it's a bit of a challenge to put them together, but great fun too. And it's something you can do while in a university lecture – you don't space out for all that long winks.

* * *

YAMI NO MATSUEI DRABBLE COLLECTION 

© Triskell, 23/24 September 2004

* * *

"Connection" 

Hisoka's hands were always cold. When spring winds made sakura blossoms dance in the air, before they settled on the ground in a pale, silky shroud, he put up the collar of his jeans jacket, curving his arms around his thin body for warmth.

Tsuzuki was behind him, buoyant feelings slipping across Hisoka's senses. He felt the intention before the man's arm wrapped around his shoulders, black trench coat enveloping him. Protests were futile when Tsuzuki was in protective mode, so Hisoka kept quiet, holding out his hands for his partner to take in his own and warm up.

* * *

"Awakening" 

He knows he cannot stay; his arms are heavy, his eyes failing. Lights grow dim and shadows fall. But his soul is lighter than before and when he finally leaves the human world it passes on. Among spirits, with the Shinigami it is difficult to find his simple dreams – a realm of sleep, of chances lost, and might-have-beens still lives inside him.

Sometimes, he sees the sun shining and is surprised it is there – but he is never warm until Tsuzuki smiles and calls his name – one his parents seldom used: Hisoka. Now it means: My love.

_Note: There seems to have been a misunderstanding in my phrasing: "Hisoka" may translate as "secret"; what I meant was that when Tsuzuki says the name he's actually saying "my love". I changed the drabble slightly, I hope it works out now ;D._

* * *

"Over the Years" 

It began in Hokkaido; they were drunk, horny, and desperate. The resulting sex was explosive and messy. Tatsumi refused to admit it had indeed happened.

Then they began meeting once a week to discuss their work. Sex occurred sometimes, but it became less frequent; neither of them minded.

They were accustomed to seeing each other. Seven years – and most of their histories, their quirks had been laid open.

Tatsumi left a note; it simply said "Stay". A slim gold ring found its way onto Watari's finger. If Tatsumi wore its twin, neither of them commented on it.

* * *

"Need"

Some days it is enough to simply know Tatsumi is there, to see him. Sometimes, there is a thirst for physical contact, when presence needs to felt intimately. Watari presses himself against his lover's body, drawing him as close as possible till he is sated. Even afterwards, he clings to him.

Tatsumi's fingers are agile; long, almost spindly, strong. They feel good on his heated skin – firm, cool, determined; a reassuring touch that languidly explores the throbbing pulse along his neck, tracing the vein, resting against his heart beat for a moment, moving on: A loving touch that cherishes.

* * *

"Bad Dreams"

Not struggling – bound tightly, gagged – silky tendrils against his pale, naked skin; smoothly gliding and moulding to his shape. No way to escape, at his captor's mercy.

No human touch, no whispered words shared in the shadows, no caresses. Cold, impersonal and yet he arched against his bonds, pleasured and filled by mists and darkness taking form, invading him. Held on the edge until pleasure snapped him in two; the moon appeared.

He moaned, undone. Cool eyes, glinting at him, the Kagetsukai shrouded in his shadows. A gleam of blue – Watari reached out, trembling, and the world dissolved…


	2. Collection II

Title: Yami No Matsuei Drabble Collection II

Author: Triskell

Rating: R (overall, for sexual allusions/language)

Notes: some of the pairings you will find in here are not "conventional", because I like to consider the characters in a different light in these short pieces.

* * *

  
Yami No Matsuei Drabble Collection II

(c) Triskell, October 2004

* * *

**Ending Love**  
  
He had never ended a relationship, but it now is enevitable that he will. He has to do it: tell you that it is over. Tell you he is more than second best. Tell you he knows your secret, every thought reflected in your eyes.  
You know it is futile, you know there are some things you cannot have. You know he is special, trustworthy. You adore him, cling to him; you give him your body and soul, but never your heart. You are his to keep safe and cherish.  
Tsuzuki loves you: Hisoka. Your love is for Watari.

* * *

**Tatsumi**  
  
His eyes mostly were like ice -- cool, clear, blue -- and his friendship hard to attain. He rarely smiled or laughed, but when he did, the sparks of happiness melted the ice, made him warm and pliant, like the sea in the summer heat.

Yet passion seldom burnt him, rage was not allowed to pass his carefully constructed walls. No one thought he could be touched, be broken. But he was human; amethyst eyes set him aflame, consumed him entirely. In the end, his ashes were scattered, scooped up by shadows, and pinned tightly to the darkness in his soul.

* * *

**Sound of Silence**  
  
"I know what you are," she whispered, eyes wide with terror and fear.  
Tsuzuki woke with a pained gasp, clenching a torn blanket to his chest. Hisoka was beside him already, cool fingers ghosting against his partner's forehead, cheek, neck.  
He wriggled under the edges of the blanket, bare legs tangling with Tsuzuki's. A shudder passed through both of them at the contact; Hisoka never broke the connection.  
Moonlight caught the curves of their bodies, smooth as marble. Hisoka's hand dropped to Tsuzuki's shoulder, skimmed the V of his pyjama shirt.  
They exchanged a look, smiling breathlessly.

* * *

_Note: I have a picture called "Autumn Watari" that goes with this drabble (see my website)_  
  
**Fading Image**  
  
The wind swirled through the trees, turning red and gold leaves round and round. They brushed against him in a swift goodbye and settled on the ground. Sparkles of silver, gold, reflected in the moody edge of a katana.He smiled softly. Closing his hand a little tighter around the blade as it begun to sting, that first cut, slowly pressing deeper. Blood, coloured like dancing leaves -- skin and flesh healed, almost instantly. He kneeled, smiling, sunlight warm against his back, tangling in loose golden hair. He waited; for sunset, shadows, and night. To be or to disappear...

* * *

**Realisation**  
  
Watari asks Tsuzuki to drop by at the lab one night. Muffled sounds, half open door: Tsuzuki peeks inside.  
  
Watari is not alone; Tatsumi's eyes are closed, hands clenched on the arms of the chair he is leaning across. His hair is dark, damp with sweat, shirt plastered to his back, trousers around his ankles.  
  
Watari stands behind him, fingers leaving possessive bruises on Tatsumi's waist. He looks at Tsuzuki: daring him. He slowly pulls back, then snaps his hips forward. Tatsumi moans his name and Tsuzuki sees the feral gleam in Watari's eyes, understands: Tatsumi belongs to Watari. 


	3. Collection III

Double Drabble: **Love Tokens**  
Author: Triskell, © January 2005

Rating: PG  
Pairing: Tatari

* * *

Watari doesn't care for hair ribbons; they never keep his locks in check and they're easy to lose.

Since Watari's with Tatsumi, he's been losing more ribbons than ever. Only now he knows it's because Tatsumi collects them. Watari did the laundry once and found a collection in Tatsumi's trouser pockets.

Watari doesn't say anything; although he makes it easier for Tatsumi to pocket the ribbons. When Watari pretends to be looking frantically for a hair tie, Tatsumi will suddenly produce one, "Oh, this one was under the rug."

Watari likes those ribbons; they smell faintly of Tatsumi, especially when they've travelled a few days in his breast pocket. These ribbons never stay in Watari's hair long. He takes them off once Tatsumi's gone, smells them, and hides them in a drawer in the lab.

It seems strange to do that, when Watari's so accustomed to not caring for his ribbons. But then, these are special ones, because Tatsumi coveted them. And perhaps it's cheesy, yet Watari prefers the long bands that have passed through Tatsumi's hands to elaborate effusions of love.

They're more real somehow, more tangible. The faint scent of Tatsumi's aftershave always makes Watari smile.

* * *

Triple Drabble: **Thinking of You**

Author: Triskell, © January 2005  
Rating: PG

Pairings: Tatari, Tsusoka (YnM)

* * *

Hisoka's face is screwed up in annoyance and Watari tries to smile encouragingly, "It'll go away soon. Try seven sips of water or holding your breath for half a minute. But then, you only get hickups when someone's thinking of you, Bon."

Watari winks cheekily and of course Hisoka is blushing, the look on his face priceless. There are moments Watari wishes he had a camera in his lab. Saya and Yuma would pay good money for a few shots of a flustered Hisoka ("Sooooo kawaii!!").

"If you're – hick – talking about – hick – that baka..."

Quick study. "I know of no one else who'd be thinking of you with such unrelenting devotion," Watari winks again, tone low and teasing.

"Try Muraki." The dead-pan, blank tone makes Watari flinch. Hisoka speaks again, too quickly, "I'd know if – hick – it was him. It – hick – isn't. Just… Tsuzuki. He – hick – always makes trouble."

Hisoka almost smiles, tone indulgent. He looks straight into Watari's eyes, "It's not bad, hick, just strange."

"Ah, young lov- hick." Watari claps a hand onto his mouth, grinning sheepishly and Hisoka laughs out loud, once, genuinely, clearly. It only lasts a moment, but the emotion reaches his eyes, makes his face glow, "Look who's – hick – talking."

"Perhaps we should – hick – ensure that the – hick – causes of this – hick – disruption have some-hick-thing better to do than – hick – think of us."

There's a flush of colour on Hisoka's nose and cheeks and he smiles, suddenly, "Perhaps we should – hick – will Tatsumi allow – hick – himself a break from – hick – work?"

"For me, he – hick – will."

"Let's go then." Hisoka's out of the door quicker than he came in. Watari smiles, hickups, and starts to grin. Moments later, he appears in Tatsumi's office, "Someone – hick – has been a – hick – _bad_ secretary…"


	4. Collection IV

Title: Compliments

Author: Triskell

Fandom: Yami no Matsuei (Tatari)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Notes: A drabble and a triple drabble, both with the same title/topic.

© February 2005

* * *

Watari had received a number of compliments in his time. He'd been compared to the sun ("You're like sunshine"), to honey ("You taste as sweet as you look"), to gold ("You're golden, precious"), and to angels ("You look like an angel with a halo"). 

He'd smiled, been flattered, and enjoyed the attention. And then Tatsumi had mumbled "I need you" into his hair when he thought Watari was asleep. Real feelings, no spur of the moment, elaborately spun words to entrance him.

Truth itself was a wonderful compliment, Tatsumi's trust too, because it was rare: like gold and winter sunlight.

* * *

Watari barged into Tatsumi's office on a grey day in January. He was practically bouncing with barely contained excitement, "Tatsumi, come along, I've got a surprise." 

"We're at work, Watari."

"Take a lunch break, it won't take long, promise."

There were few people Tatsumi couldn't say 'no' to and Watari had quickly become one of them.

A sigh, "If you insist."

Watari smiled, grabbing Tatsumi's hand and teleporting them out of the office, out and away. They materialised on a wide, white field, sloping downwards. Their footprints were the only ones and the air was cool. Tatsumi shivered.

"Voilà! I only just thought about it when I heard the weather forecast this morning."

"You've been listening to ChiJou radio again."

"I've always wanted to take a walk in the snow with you."

Tatsumi looked around himself, at the grey, overcast sky and the endless white around him. It seemed bright and pristine, cheering him a little. It was good to breathe in and out, crystal coldness in his lungs, the icy wind ruffling his hair. He was shivering and he loved it, that total abandon in the midst of nature.

"Let's go then."  
Watari's smile was instant, sizzling, and his hand was warm in Tatsumi's.

"Will you tell me where we are?"

"Fujisan, of course. The views are breathtaking from up here. It's a little cold though and the sun is missing."

"No, it's right here, in front of me."

Watari laughed, shook his head, didn't make the connection until Tatsumi stopped, pulling on Watari's hand. He drew him close, laid his head on Watari's shoulder, blonde locks tumbling into his vision. Watari's heartbeat had quickened and his arms were wrapped tightly around his lover. Tatsumi didn't often make compliments; but when he did, he always chose the best ones.

(Note: Fujisan is Mt. Fuji)


	5. Collection V

Title: Demonstrative

Author: Triskell

Fandom: YnM, Tatari

Rating: PG

Notes: triple drabble, word count 300 (including title); still more sugar with my fave pairing, because I can't bring myself to finally finish my longer projects.

* * *

**DEMONSTRATIVE**

**© Triskell, March 3 and 5, 2005**

* * *

Tatsumi wasn't demonstrative, but Watari knew better. 

Their first year together, he left notes when Watari woke up alone (which was often) and breakfast on the table. Tatsumi always bought Watari's favourite blend of genmai, although it was more expensive than the generic brand. Notes fluttered into Watari's lab: "tonight, 8pm, pasta", a shopping list, the drycleaner's receipt ("please pick the shirts up on your way home").

Once, teasingly, Watari remarked Tatsumi's apartment was too darkly furnished. Two weeks later, Tatsumi had cream curtains and a colourful throw-over on the couch. Watari's mentioning they all but shared an apartment, led to him finding his own let, his things packed and transferred to Tatsumi's.

Watari smiled; he and Tatsumi spent a weekend silently arranging books and memorabilia, and crates for inventions and lab equipment. Tatsumi only flinched a little when he put the spare Bunsen burner on the window sill next to his potted begonia. Ordered chaos began its reign.

The second year, Tatsumi's place became 'home' and Watari stopped using the spare key under the mat after he found a new one in the lab, with his name in golden kanji on the keyring. It lay on a note: "your reports are late".

As the years passed, Tatsumi continued scowling at mistletoe in the office, but hung up myriad boughs at home. On Valentine's day, Watari found a box of Godiva chocolates on his desk and, that night, showed Tatsumi how to make best use of their new handcuffs.

Ten years into their relationship, Watari wore a Swarovski star pendant: "The lady in the shop misunderstood the word 'partner'." Watari laughed at Tatsumi's sheepish look and wore the necklace regardless; it complemented the sapphire stud he'd gotten for Tatsumi's navel piercing.

Tatsumi still wasn't demonstrative, but Watari knew better.


	6. In Vino Veritas

Title: In Vino Veritas  
Author: Triskell

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Tatsumi-san and Watari-san belong to Matsushita Yoko, their antics in this piece are mine. No infringement intended.  
Notes: 180 words (incl. title), so no drabble, rather a prose-poem.

* * *

**In Vino Veritas**  
Triskell (c) 24 April 2005

* * *

Incidentally, Tatsumi met Watari when dining at a Kyoto restaurant.  
Neither of them thought it strange to have dinner together, of course, and the 

Veritable flirting they engaged in all evening was an unconscious by-product of their serious discussion.  
It was almost midnight when they left, still arguing over politics and the law,  
No longer entirely sober thanks to the good Spanish red wine Tatsumi had ordered.  
Obscure compliments were traded as they swayed down the street together and the effects of

Vintage on taste seemed an excellent topic for further discussion, also  
Entitling Watari to a nightcap in Tatsumi's apartment. The wine loosened their tongues and they  
Realised their mutual attraction, leading to a graceless tussle on Tatsumi's kitchen floor, which Watari  
Inadvertently won. As Watari was a fair winner, they concluded the match between the sheets.  
Tatsumi's hangover - made bearably by Shinigami healing capacities - was  
Altogether insignificant, as Watari, upon waking, insisted on a re-match before breakfast.  
Surprisingly, Tatsumi acquiesced with a smile. When asked why he wasn't protesting, he cryptically replied: 

"In vino veritas(1), Watari-san."

(1) Truth (lies) in wine.


	7. Collection VI Tatari

Notes: double drabble (200 words including title). I wrote this as I was waiting for my last ever university exam to begin ;D. 

VARIATIONS OF LOVE

© Triskell, 30 June 2005 

Tatsumi held out his hand to Watari in the crowded break room at New Year's, "Would you like to dance?" He was still completely sober.

Tatsumi gave his spare key to Watari in plain view of Saya and Yuma, the division's greatest gossips and added, just loud enough, "You forgot your keys."

Tatsumi grabbed Watari round the waist in the corridor, kissing him soundly on the lips as Terazuma walked past.

Tatsumi paused in his elaborations on the budget, pointer resting in the palm of his hand and casually mentioned, "By the way, Watari and I are planning a commitment ceremony on Saturday, next week. We'd be delighted if you attended."

A lot of wishful thinking, all of them – Watari crossed the items off his list of 'Things Tatsumi Does For Me'. He pursed his lips, thinking for a moment, then jotted down a few additional notes.

...doesn't ask me to change

...slips me chocolates when I'm down or stressed

...remembers every anniversary and doesn't get upset when I forget

...makes me bento boxes every day

He ticked them all off immediately with a smile the deepened as the list grew steadily longer.

* * *

Notes: drabble (100 words including title). I wrote this as I was waiting for my last ever university exam to begin ;D.

THE THINGS YOU MAKE ME DO

© Triskell, 30 June 2005

The smoke from Tatsumi's exploded computer rose against the white walls, curling hypnotically in little wispy tendrils. It contrasted beautifully with the spill of blonde locks across the keyboard.

Pushing his hips forward, slick skin sliding against skin, Tatsumi briefly contemplated his utter madness and dismissed the thought almost too easily.

Beneath him, Watari moaned, wriggled his hips, "You could've sent a mail."

"It was an emergency."

Watari laughed. Tatsumi knew he'd get teased mercilessly for destroying his computer only to get his hands on his lover. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to mind.

* * *

Notes: double drabble (200 words incl. title).

UNEXPECTED WARMTH

© Triskell, June 2005

Watari had always been susceptible to colds, therefore he usually dressed warmly – lab coat over pullover over tank tops.

The day had been unaccountably warm and Watari hadn't taken his coat or pullover when Tatsumi took him for a quick dinner – a bonus for completing an important research project ahead of time.

It was almost midnight when they finally left the restaurant. Watari smiled, although the breeze was cold against his bare arms, goose bumps travelling across his skin with each chilly gust.

He rubbed his arms and Tatsumi looked at him, frowning slightly, "Are you cold?"

"Just a little." He'd just have to teleport straight to his place, for all that he'd have liked to continue their dinner discussion on the way home.

He shivered again; Tatsumi held out his jacket: wordlessly, unassumingly, naturally. Acceptance was a mere reflex, as were Watari's quick, surprised thanks.

The fabric was damp and warm from Tatsumi's skin, the faint scent of his aftershave still lingering. The jacket lay comfortingly heavy across Watari's shoulders, warding off the chill.

Tatsumi took up the thread of their discussion as they started down the street, Watari's shoulder brushing against Tatsumi's all the way home.


	8. Phantom Pain

**PHANTOM PAIN**  
(c) Triskell, Nov 05 

_ For nossariel (Rhea Logan) as a bribe of sorts to quickly continue her wonderful "Against the Wind" series._

The sting hardly registered in Tatsumi's mind anymore. He absentmindedly checked there were no traces of blood  
on his pristine report, then continued reading. After the first hundred, Tatsumi stopped counting the paper cuts he'd received in his decades of service.(1)

It didn't really hurt the first time. It should have, of course, from the way he looked after - there were pictures in his file. Watari had hacked into it because he'd wanted to know. Now he could associate the blood and twisted limbs with an explosion. It hurts more, now, because his body knits itself back together and he actually feels it. But it's in Watari's nature not to give up, so he takes lab explosions in stride.

There are few evenings when work doesn't intrude on their relationship. Yet they work around it: Tatsumi reads his reports in bed, marker and pencil and biro at his side; Watari draws diagrams and jots down formulas with a low murmur.

Sometimes, Tatsumi will reach out and trace the bruises no longer visible on pale skin - he has seen many of them in the past century and he remembers each one. And Watari will look up and smile at him, taking Tatsumi's hand in his and following long forgotten paper cuts with his thumb.

Sharing their phantom pain, they feel alive again.

(1) Yes, paper cuts are evil. Since I began working in October, my hands are full of them, and I keep cutting myself - almost daily in fact. Paperpushing is actually hazardous ;D.


	9. Valentine's Day 2006

Title: Uraawase (+)  
Rating: PG-13 (slash)  
Pairing: Tatari (who else)  
Author's Notes: Rather plotless sap for Valentine's Day, which I hope isn't too bad :D.  
Wishing all you love birds out there (and especially those on my friends list throws sparkle) a wonderful, happy day! sends hugs and throws chocolate hearts 

URAAWASE  
(c) Triskell, 13 February, 2006

It's not necessary, of course, but it's their routine.

Every morning, Tatsumi will make green tea for Watari and Watari will straighten Tatsumi's tie before they leave for work - at least two hours before the rest of their colleagues get up.

Sometimes, Tatsumi doesn't even knot his tie as it's not necessary anyway and Watari's fingers stroking almost innocently against his neck between the collars of his shirt are warm and tickle.

They no longer constantly hunger for each other, their lust has been tempered by the years. Still, there's always a banked fire, which, if they are honest, surprises them. They hadn't thought they'd last like this - intimate, close, happy, and passionate.

It's convenient, living together. They don't often give in to the temptation of availing themselves of a stolen moment like lovesick teenagers - although they reasonably could without even being late for work. That's a point one can't be too clear about they both think.

Watari prefers awkward fumblings where one of them is pressed up against a wall, a door, or a piece of furniture. Tatsumi knows that these are the mornings where a complete change of clothes is advisable. He's always completely rumpled. And satedly, smugly satisfied with the world around him.

Tatsumi rather likes the slow approach - undressing although they've just finished buttoning themselves up - revealing what they hid only minutes before from each other's gaze. It's probably just that he likes the way Watari wriggles out of his tops and bodysuits - sleek, controlled, sculpted power.

When they clash, bodies writhing together, it's always spectacular, no matter what lead up to the occasion. They're intensely aware of each other - each need, each response exposed so often and savoured anew every time they touch.

They fit quite comfortably; neither of them was perfect alone, but together they are always something more.

(+) title kindly provided by aluragayle. It "means 'fit'...in the sense of an "agreement of minds" as well as fitting something together, like pieces". Thank you!


	10. Collection VII RentLotR

Rating: PG-13 

Fandom: YnM  
Disclaimer: characters belong to Matsushita Yoko.

Author's Note: for Threewalls – happy Bday from the Yami bishies!

TIDING TIME  
© Triskell, 29 July 2006

In the accounting season, Watari stops at Tatsumi's office every night with a cup of tea. He just slips inside without knocking. Tatsumi looks up briefly and accepts the tea with a hesitant smile. He's unused to being cared for - the strong and silent are never pampered.

Sometimes, Watari's caught up in his own work, and won't check up on him before midnight. Tatsumi's asleep then, sometimes, hunched over his desk, glasses askew and brow furrowed. He doesn't wake when Watari stands beside his chair to move him into a slightly more comfortable position, looses his tie and opens the top buttons of Tatsumi's shirt.

It's the second-to-last evening of the year and Tatsumi's body seems heavier as Watari turns him. He has barely touched the tie when Tatsumi's hand covers his.

Watari – unfazed - smiles, then winks as he snaps the button open, "You're practically inviting me to molest you."

"Invite? Hardly. However, ..." Tatsumi sits up, keeping his hand on Watari's. He turns his chair so he faces Watari, arching his back and spreading his legs. There's a flush high on his cheekbones and across his nose, "You wanted an invitation, Watari-san?"

Watari pauses for a heartbeat, "You bet."

He laughs and steps forward to straddle Tatsumi's lap, leaning forward for a kiss. Their memories of the rest of the night are fuzzy at best, but they end up in the same bed. And on new year's eve, they already know they won't spend another year alone.

* * *

Fandom: YnM, Tatari

Rating: PG-13

CANDLE GLOW  
© Triskell, 4 July 2006 

Yellow silk flowed across Watari's body, mingling with his hair as he lay spread out on their bed. The room was lit only by candles placed to Watari's left and right, casting him in a dim half-circle of dancing flame and hushing shadow.

Candlelight fuelled his powers, but the feeling of warm skin, the strong thumping of Watari's heart beneath his palm and the delighted gasp escaping between moist lips as his own closed on them forbid their use. Tatsumi could never resist when Watari tempted him to touch.

And of course Watari wouldn't have wanted him to.

Note: exactly 100 words including title. Belongs to MC, who gave the pointers: Tatari & candle/s.

* * *

Fandom: YnMRating: PG (innuendo)  
Disclaimer: charas aren't mine. 

Notes: double drabble in honour of summer solstice; exactly 200 words without title. I'm sorry about the crappy title. Any suggestions are welcome.

A NIGHT FOR YOU  
© Triskell, 21 June 2006 

"You're still here?"

"It's not that late, Watari-san. I'll go home when it's dark."

"To save on energy costs in the office?"

"Of course," Tatsumi looked up, briefly, smiling, "why else?"

"To avoid your temporary flatmate, perhaps?" And dancing around each other, flirting, close, never touching.

"The burst pipes in your flat aren't your fault. Nor was Kagankokushungei's wrecking your lab. I think."

A pout, head cocked, "I'm innocent."

"Pouting won't convince me, handsome."

Stunned silence. Watari's voice strangely quiet when he spoke, "I didn't think you'd noticed. I'll … let you finish now, if … you want."

Tatsumi nodded; he'd said too much. Then he looked up, "Watari-san, being unable to spend the longest day of the year with me – I would … if you want … I could offer you the longest night." Thin shadows lightly rippled in tension.

"You needn't be so formal. And winter solstice is in six months. Still... I'll take you up on this. Remember, you'll be mine."

Tatsumi's head snapped up, eyes narrowing, but there was a slight smile on his lips. Watari was at the door already and after he had closed it, Tatsumi muttered, "No need, I already am."

* * *

Fandom: YnM 

X-posted at **fuda100**  
Rating: PG

Double drabble, 200 words exactly, sans title

WRITING  
© Triskell, 6 June 2006

Tatsumi thinks that writing is an indication of character.

Tsuzuki may often be sloppy, but he writes beautifully: Every kanji is precise – his fuda are works of art. Order in the chaos of existence.

Kurosaki's impatience trembles in his characters – they seem to lean to the side, as if they wanted to jump off the page. Those reports that Kurosaki and Tsuzuki have written together show how well their brush strokes compliment each other. It always makes Tatsumi smile.

Fukiya and Torii's kanji are legible, it's the coloured ink and perfumed paper (lily-of-the-valley!) that gives Tatsumi headaches.

Kannuki refuses to use a paintbrush and her biro kanji look like shivers on the page. Terazuma's hand is big and strong, concentrated like a child's who is just learning. Terazuma frowning in concentration over a sheaf of paper is a rare, but worthwhile sight.

But of all styles of writing, Tatsumi prefers the thin, exact lines that sharply cut into the paper like a sword: products of a methodical mind, filled with formulas, ideas, genius and madness. Sometimes, kanji find their way onto notes, fluttering to his desk in their guise as origami owls.

The signature sure and familiar – one kanji – Yutaka.

Note: I checked the name and I see 'Yutaka' as one kanji. But I don't speak/write Japanese, so please do correct me if I'm wrong. :D

* * *

Inspired by the first 'pain au chocolat' in two years. Written for kandadze as a (very, very) belated bday drabble. She wanted girls, here are two from RENT.

Rating: PG (f/f)

Fandom: RENT

A SWEETER TASTE  
© Triskell, 10-12 March 2006 

100 words without title

The first time Maureen saw Joanne, she was eating a 'pain au chocolat'. Back then, Maureen would have said 'pastry', her only French being swear words and 'bohème'.

But – that image...

Bronzed crisp pastry crumbling into golden bits that tumbled onto Joanne's pristine suit and starched white blouse, marring pristine perfection.

Joanne brushed away the thin flakes, thumb gracing the edge of her mouth, resting there for a moment too long. She looked up and smiled.

Back then Maureen thought it was the taste of the pastry. Now she knew that in that moment, Joanne had caught sight of her.

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And this is an apology for being so late with the drabble ;D. Girls again, a little more naughty, though not by much. LotR poem: Arwen/Eowyn

Rating: PG-13

Fandom: LotR

UNWIND  
© Triskell 10 March 2006 

Unravel your plait,

Release the twisted silk,

To fall in gold and amber strands

And mingle on the pillow

With the ebony tresses

Already curlèd there.

Embrace me, light and

Fill my shadows with

The solace of an understanding mind

The soothing touches of your lips

And the sweet comfort of

Your body moulding against mine.

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Rating: PG-13

Fandom: YnM

100 words incl. title

NOISE LEVEL  
© Triskell 10-12 March 2006 

Tatsumi didn't much like noisy people. He considered it undignified, overbearing and also quite unnecessary to make a production of oneself in such way.

Therefore, he often found himself called upon to chastise his colleagues for inappropriately loudness in the office – be it Tsuzuki fighting with Terazuma or the Hokkaido duo squealing over having found a dress for Kurosaki.

Whenever he gave one of these lectures, however, he avoided Watari's knowing eyes and saucy smirk. In the privacy of his bedroom, even Tatsumi could be induced to a surprising variety of noises. Quiet then, was never a priority.

* * *

Fandom: YnM

Rating: PG

BIG SPENDER  
© Triskell, 25 May 2006 

Shopping with Watari was … different.

"You want it, it's useful. Not pricey. Why not buy it?"

"I don't need something as … frivolous as an Italian cookbook."

"Oh, please," Watari threw his hands up, then grabbed Tatsumi with one and the book with the other, dragging Tatsumi towards the counter, "We'll get it. Just blame it on me."

Later that night, Tatsumi leaved through the book, marking the recipe for tiramisu with a frayed silk ribbon. Watari was snoring lightly beside him. The evening had turned out more passionately than expected. Tatsumi blamed it on his lasagne.

exactly 100 words each without title

* * *

Rating: PG Fandom: YnM  
Summary: crack!fic, totally; response to the fuda100 challenge "best friends" 

BEST FRIENDS

(c) Triskell, 13+17 June 2006

"I wouldn't know what to do without you," Tatsumi's hand gently caressed a sleek curve, "Always willing, always accessible, always mine. You calm me and let me rely on you and you're so soothing when things go wrong, so strong and sure..."

"Unless the power blows, of course," Watari's laughing voice intruded.

Tatsumi turned, blocking the view, embarrassed to be caught, yet never removing his hand.

"And people say I'm weird," Watari winked, "Say, what's his name?"

It was Watari's sudden seriousness, the implied acceptance that made Tatsumi answer as he stepped aside, " Watari-san, meet my best friend, paper-shredder-kun."

* * *

Fandom: YnM  
Rating: PG  
Summary: Wakaba's best friend; response to the fuda100 challenge "best friends" 

BEST FRIENDS II

(c) Triskell, 13+17 June 2006

'Best friends' – that's different things to different people. Yuma and Saya define it as talking about men, Hisoka-chan, clothes. Nonomiya and Kazuma call it companionship, being partners and 'more-than-friends', too.

Wakaba's best friend is quiet and supportive, a girl, but never girly. She's not interested in frocks or make-up or men, but she always understands. She'll never spill Wakaba's secrets, her deepest desires, not even to her beloved. She's reliable and sweet and doesn't mind tears.

"I wouldn't know what do without you, 003-chan," she says and the little owl caresses her wet cheek with her wings. Silently, comfortingly.


End file.
